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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27794809">How Shawn Stole Christmas (And Lassie's Heart)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicalkairos/pseuds/cynicalkairos'>cynicalkairos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Psych (TV 2006)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas Fluff, Episode: s02e10 Gus's Dad May Have Killed an Old Guy, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Lassie gets confidence, Light BDSM, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, at the end</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:16:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27794809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicalkairos/pseuds/cynicalkairos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's that time of year again where Hallmark Christmas movies invade every channel on the TV and it's safe to say that that's one reason Carlton Lassiter hates Christmas. Now, after almost putting Guster's parents behind bars unjustly and getting a snow globe for Christmas, there was no way that his Christmas could get worse.</p><p>Until Shawn Spencer shows up at his door.</p><p>The only question now is: is Lassie's Christmas going to get better or vastly worse?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carlton Lassiter &amp; Juliet O'Hara, Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>142</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>How Shawn Stole Christmas (And Lassie's Heart)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank goodness Thanksgiving's over so I can finally post this.</p><p>Enjoy!</p><p>P.S. This is my first time writing for these two, so I thought I would let you know before you read the rest of the work.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lassiter grimaced when sat down on his couch, turned on the television, and flipped through the channels, each one playing something related to Christmas.</p><p>Carlton didn’t necessarily hate Christmas. He loved the holiday traditions— hanging ornaments on the tree, opening presents, spending time with loved ones.</p><p>But that was precisely why he hated the holiday at the same time. Christmas reminded him of the failed relationships of his life. The times he should have taken the night off, the times he should have paid more attention. Even though it’s all in the past now and he knew that, seeing everyone congregate with such a joyous spirit filled his heart with dread and sadness.</p><p>Sitting alone in his apartment, beer in hand, Carlton wasn’t surprised he was alone. No matter how depressing it sounds, he didn’t really have anywhere else to turn. </p><p>Victoria didn’t want to see him or have anything to do with him really, despite how much he didn’t care to admit it. </p><p>O’Hara made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t invited to her family’s house anymore. Even though his pride wanted him to believe it was because he was “cooler than her,” something deeper, darker inside of him reminded him it was because he was too much.</p><p>Carlton even considered Spencer and Guster for a brief moment, before reminding himself that they were off with their own families.</p><p>At least, they have them, he thought, taking a sip of his beer.</p><p>Besides, asking Spencer or even Guster to come over just seemed weird to him— something that just didn’t make sense in his mind.</p><p>Now, he definitely could have gone to his mother and Althea’s house for Christmas, but he used the excuse of having a case to get out of it. He didn’t want this year to be like the last. Carlton didn’t want to be reminded that he just constantly fucked every relationship up.</p><p>Every year, his mother would ask, “So, you moved on yet?”</p><p>And all he could say was that he was working on it.</p><p>Carlton couldn’t admit to her that he did have someone in mind, but that person would never, ever look at him the same way.</p><p>Because of some dirty trick that the man upstairs played on him, he started to develop feelings for the psychic detective, the constant pain in his ass, the probable cause for his greying hair— that Shawn Spencer.</p><p>Carlton honestly didn’t get it. He couldn’t fathom how such a pest of a man got under his skin like he did and the fact that he liked it confused him even more. His days were boring before Shawn would burst through the front doors of the station, going on and on about some psychic crap. </p><p>He didn’t believe in the theatrics for one second, but something about the way Shawn seemed to entrance an entire room of people just… astounded him. Sure, he didn’t like his work to be interrupted by such childish antics, but that’s everyone, right? Everyone wanted to kiss that god awful, cocky smirk off his face. Everyone wanted to make Shawn shut up by pushing him against the wall and kissing him until he couldn’t breath. Everyone wanted to drag him into one of the interrogation rooms and—</p><p>All previous thoughts ceased when there was a knock at the door. </p><p>He released the breath he was holding and placed the beer down on the coffee table in front of him. </p><p>As the frantic knocking continued, Lassiter yelled out, “I’m coming!”</p><p>He quickly checked himself in the mirror. He was still in his work attire, simply missing the top two buttons of his shirt and his tie. He huffed out a small chuckle when he was so distracted by the gloominess of Christmas that he didn’t take his holster off.</p><p>Deciding he looked somewhat presentable, Lassiter opened the door to see none other than the bane of his existence standing in the doorway.</p><p>Spencer waved at him cheerily, his abundance of energy permeating the area around him. “Hey, Lassie!”</p><p>Lassiter took a deep breath in, seemingly out of annoyance, but, in reality, it was to will his heart to stop beating so quickly. “What the hell do you want, Spencer? Don’t you have someone else to bother?”</p><p>“I do, but I would much rather bother you.”</p><p>Lassiter looked away, trying to hide the small blush on his face.</p><p>He wasn’t even flirting with you, he thought, forcing all notions of Spencer possible underlying intentions out of his mind. Get a hold of yourself.</p><p>“Besides, it’s Christmas, Lassie! I had to make sure you weren’t going to go around and steal all the Who Hash tonight,” Spencer continued and snuck under Lassiter’s arm, entering the house without any hint of permission whatsoever.</p><p>“Spencer—” Lassiter grumbled curtly, even though he was going to do anything to stop him.</p><p>“Calm your sternbush, Lassifrass. I pinky promise I won’t break anything.”</p><p>With a roll of his eyes, the detective closed the door and locked it. When he walked back into the living room, he found Spencer sitting on the couch with his feet propped onto the coffee table and flipping through the channels.</p><p>“Fine.” The head detective sighed exasperatedly, sitting down next to him and picking up his beer. “Just don’t put on any crappy Christmas movies.”</p><p>Spencer looked at him with wide eyes. “So, that’s a no to It’s a Wonderful Life?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“How about Polar Express?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Home Alone?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“What about—”</p><p>“No, we are not watching a Barbie movie, Spencer.”</p><p>Spencer sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. “Come on, Lassie!”</p><p>Done with his shenanigans, Lassiter reached over and grabbed the remote control out of Spencer’s hand, only for the other man to hang on and pull his way. </p><p>“Give me that,” Lassiter mumbled through gritted teeth as he managed to slowly pull the remote toward him. </p><p>“Nuh uh,” Shawn responded, tugging back with all his might, gaining some ground. </p><p>“You insufferable son of a—”</p><p>“Can’t help that you’re a sore loser.”</p><p>“I am not—”</p><p>With a bit of distraction loosening of his grip, Spencer managed to surprise Lassiter with the insult long enough to pull sharply on the remote and remove his hands from the device. What Lassiter failed to realize until too late was the sheer power from both of them using all of their strength, causing the detective to fall on top of the psychic.</p><p>Along with being confused by the sudden warmth flooding his face and chest, Carlton opened his eyes to see the smooth, tan skin of Shawn’s neck. He lifted his head up slowly and met his eyes. </p><p>As Carlton stared wide-eyed into Shawn’s deep, blue eyes, he felt his hot breath brush against his lips. He glanced between his lips and back to his eyes. All he wanted to do was lean in and just kiss him, but the unreadable expression on the other man’s face stopped him in his tracks, his confidence in the situation diminishing. </p><p>In an instant, Lassiter sat back up, clearing his throat, and stood up to go grab the disregarded remote totally not to hide his bright red blush.</p><p>“So, uh— Spencer,” Lassiter started as he toyed with the remote in his hand. “What are you really doing here?”</p><p>Spencer straightened himself up and shifted so he was simply leaning on the arm rest. “Well, Gus and his parents left already and I didn’t want to spend any more time with Henry, so—”</p><p>“Don’t worry, I understand.” Lassiter stopped him with a hand and tapped the device against his hand gently. “Do you want a beer or—”</p><p>“That’s not entirely why I’m here.”</p><p>The detective froze. He watched as the psychic stood up and walked over to him, his hands in his pockets. He could barely process what he said, before he stopped right in front of him.</p><p>Spencer pulled out a small, black box and inspected it to make sure it was undamaged. Then he held it out to Lassiter. “I also wanted to give you this.”</p><p>Taking the box with caution, Lassiter frowned, inspecting the box himself. “What is it?”</p><p>“Open it to find out.”</p><p>The detective looked at him for a moment and then down at the box. He nodded and opened it. Inside was a small figurine, no more than five inches tall. It was a toy soldier. Only the usual green was a dark blue with gold buttons and small details painted on and, when he looked at the face, it looked like—</p><p>“This is me,” Lassiter concluded in utter disbelief, his jaw slack and his eyes wide with surprise. “You made me into a figurine.”</p><p>Unable to gauge his reaction, Spencer shifted in his spot and shrugged. “Well, I felt guilty for giving you the snowglobe after knowing you were terrified of them—”</p><p>“Wait a second—”</p><p>“And,” Spencer interrupted him, preventing him from getting off topic. “I called up one of our clients who was a toy maker and owed me a favor and got him to make this for you. I know how much you love your Civil War reenactments and that lovely goatee, so I figured this might grow your heart three sizes too big.”</p><p>When Spencer looked up at the taller man, a rare smile glistened his features. </p><p>Carlton truly didn’t know what to say. Sure, a statement of gratitude was in order, but the fact that he had this made especially for him made his heart race. Not to mention he remembered his love for the Civil War and his uniform perfectly, even getting the small details of the coat right. </p><p>He was in awe and probably in love. </p><p>“You okay, Lassie?” Spencer asked, grabbing his attention.</p><p>Noting the small blush on Spencer’s cheeks, Lassiter huffed out a chuckle, glancing back down at the gift in hopes for the shorter man not to see him too blushing. “I— um, I didn’t get you anything.”</p><p>“I didn’t really expect you to.” Spencer shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. Then he tapped the side of his head, earning a fond eye roll from the taller man. “Psychic, remember?”</p><p>With that, the self-proclaimed psychic strutted to the door. The detective noted the lack of a skip to his step, the small burst of energy whenever his toe reached the floor that accelerated him forward. </p><p>Carlton admired the figurine in his hand. Then he frowned when he saw a note in the box. He picked it up, smiling softly at the tiny pineapples adorning the edges of the sticky note. </p><p>In messy, distinct handwriting, it read: </p><p>“My dearest Lassie, </p><p>Your Christmas gift to me was a key to your apartment. Don’t bother to ask how. ;) </p><p>Your Favorite Psychic Detective,<br/>
Shawn Spencer”</p><p>“Sweet Lady Justice,” Carlton muttered exasperatedly, but his face deceived him by widening his already present smile. Then his head shot up when he heard his front door close with a loud slam. </p><p>All the adrenaline in his body coursed through his veins. He could feel his heart thump against his chest. Clutching the figurine in his fist, he glanced down at it one time, feeling a smile grace his lips. “Damn it, Spencer.”</p><p>Tossing the note and the figurine aside, he stormed out of his apartment. He looked to see the man himself already down the hall, making his way toward the elevator.</p><p>Carlton quickly strode down the hallway, his tall, lanky frame hunched over in sheer determination to catch up to the shorter man.</p><p>Hearing the stomps echoing in the hallway, Spencer looked over his shoulder, smiling widely and halting at the sight. “Hey, Lassie! I see you read my note!”</p><p>“Just shut up, Spencer.”</p><p>WIth that, Carlton kissed him gently on the lips, his strong, calloused hands cupping his jaw. </p><p>Just when the detective was going to pull away and forget the whole endeavor out of embarrassment, Shawn kissed back and tugged on his shoulder holster to push himself against him.</p><p>Tasting the pineapple and coconut on Shawn’s lips when he licked his bottom lip to ask for entry, his mind drifted back to Shawn asking him to taste this exact lip balm earlier this week. And Carlton definitely remembered having to restrain himself from taking up his offer.</p><p>When Carlton pulled away to breathe, he subconsciously licked his lips, desperately wanting to keep that taste on his tongue.</p><p>“Damn, Lassie,” Shawn said, face red from the lack of oxygen and the sudden rush of blood to the area. “If I’d have known it took that for you to kiss me, I would have told you about my key to your apartment much sooner.”</p><p>All Carlton could do in response was stare at him, a small smile on his face.</p><p>Carlton didn’t know what happened to him. First, he let Shawn into his house and didn’t kick him out when he just barged in. Second, he let him stay to keep him company on Christmas. Third, simply hearing his title come out of Shawn sent shivers down his spine and drove him to deepen the kiss. </p><p>But, damn, all he could think about at the moment was Shawn’s lips and how great they were at breaking down every wall he built up. </p><p>Carlton laughed quietly, a sound that rumbled deep within his chest. When he opened his eyes, he saw Shawn staring up to him in confusion. </p><p>Ask himself a year ago why the hell he was laughing at the fact that Shawn Spencer had a key to his home or why he wasn’t yelling at him about it and Lassiter would not know the answer.</p><p>“Carlton?” Shawn asked quietly, pulling him from his thoughts. </p><p>Feeling his heart accelerate so much that he knew Spencer could feel it, Carlton cursed to himself. Leave it to Spencer to turn him on by simply calling him by his first name.</p><p>But no matter how much he wanted to fuck Shawn into his mattress at this very moment, Carlton didn’t want to rush this. He rushed it before with Victoria and it left him alone and miserable. There was no way he was going to make the same mistake again.</p><p>But this was Shawn. The idiot that somehow made a copy of his apartment key and didn’t get killed or even threatened for it.</p><p>With a deep breath and so much will power, the detective stepped back and detached himself from the man in front of him. Then he smiled at the psychic. A genuine smile, one that not very many people get to receive or even see. </p><p>“Goodnight, Shawn,” Carlton only said, a twinkle in his eye that definitely wasn’t present before. “Merry Christmas.”</p><p>He turned quickly on his heel and walked back to his apartment, closing the door behind him.</p><p>Sitting back down on the couch alone, Carlton’s eyes fixated on the small figurine of himself and he hated the simultaneous feeling of warmth and dread that spread through his chest. </p><p>He felt horrible </p><p>Those thoughts repeated endlessly in his head, cycling through the list of doubts and fears he hid deep inside him. </p><p>Then another series of knocks at the door startled him out of his mind, but, before he could get to the door, the door swung open and revealed Shawn on the other side, holding up the key.</p><p>“Oh, no, you don’t,” the man himself said to the detective proudly, closing and locking the door behind him (to Carlton’s surprise). “You don’t get to pull an X-Files on me and get away with it.”</p><p>“Spencer—” </p><p>All sounds coming from his mouth were muffled by Shawn’s lips as he grabbed Carlton’s collar tightly and kissed him roughly, different from before. </p><p>While the first kiss was new and tentative with the fear that Shawn would not reciprocate, the second was unloading all of the feelings he buried deep inside him now that he knew he reciprocated those feelings.</p><p>The anger from Shawn constantly butting his head where it didn’t belong.</p><p>The frustration from Shawn constantly flirting with everyone else but him.</p><p>The jealousy from Shawn constantly demeaning his authority as an officer.</p><p>The desire from Shawn constantly pushing him in ways no one else could, not even Victoria.</p><p>The love from Shawn constantly caring about those around him, even if it was in his own idiotic way.</p><p>This time, the kiss was carnal, emotional, messy— everything that Carlton prided himself for not being.</p><p>“Shawn,” he breathed heavily against his lips, starting to pull away from the other man.</p><p>His grip on the shirt collar tightened at the move away, the fabric straining from the pressure of his hands and the shoulder holster. </p><p>“Lassie— Carlton,” Shawn whispered, stopping the detective completely. “I want this. I want you. I want all of you.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“I’ve never been so sure in my life.”</p><p>At the sound of confirmation, Carlton kissed him once again with all of the strength and passion he had, nearly knocking the psychic off his feet. </p><p>Shawn eased his grip and wrapped his arms around Carlton’s shoulders, bracing himself for the sheer intensity of the other man. As the detective detached himself from the psychic’s lips and proceeded to kiss a line down his jaw to his neck, Carlton moved his hands down to Shawn’s ass and squeezed, a deep moan releasing from the other’s lips. </p><p>“Lassie, please,” he groaned as the thin, yet strong fingers dug deeper into the muscles through his jeans. “Ah— Detective!”</p><p>The title slipped out of Shawn’s mouth accidently, causing something within him to stir. Carlton stared at him with wide eyes, trying to suppress the blush that rose on his cheeks. </p><p>He bit down on the soft tissue of his neck and a hand dug into his short, dark hair, begging him to continue leaving those dark marks. </p><p>“You like that, don’t you, Lassie?” Shawn teased, knowing it would drive him over the edge. “You like it when I call you ‘detective.’”</p><p>Carlton hummed against his neck and continued to suck dark bruises on his neck, growling in between kisses, “Shawn.”</p><p>Shawn trailed his hands down the white dress shirt and landed on the buttons, starting to unbutton them one by one. Then, when the amount of sternbush showing satisfied the psychic, his warm hands entered the shirt and felt the muscles underneath.</p><p>“That shirt really does you injustice, Lassie. I should call the Chief tomorrow morning and tell her to change the no-shirts-allowed policy—”</p><p>Tired of his rambling, Carlton pressed a kiss to his lips to shut him up. When he pulled away, a smirk graced his lips. “I’ve been waiting to do that for so long.”</p><p>“Then why stop… Head Detective?” Shawn teased with a smirk as well when he saw the arousal light up in Carlton’s eyes.</p><p>Unable to control himself any longer, Carlton dug his fingers into the denim and squeezed his ass. Suddenly, he lifted up Shawn with one swift, adrenaline-filled move, the shorter man instinctively wrapping his legs around him for support.</p><p>“Wow,” Shawn gasped out, startled completely by the wind nearly being knocked out of him. </p><p>Concern immediately flooded Carlton’s features as he furrowed his brow, his bright, blue eyes searching for the site of injury. “Did I hurt you? I am so—”</p><p>“Sorry? No, no, no, Lassie, don’t be,” The psychic finished for him, an amused smile spreading on his face. He leaned down to whisper in his ear. “That was so hot.”</p><p>“Oh, really?” He asked, turning his head to look at him as a blush crept up his face.</p><p>“Yeah,” Shawn continued, threading his hands in the other man’s hair and pressing kisses to his jaw. “God, you are so sexy right now.”</p><p>Carlton only hummed in acknowledgement as he carried Shawn to the bedroom, the psychic still rambling about how attractive the detective was. </p><p>———</p><p>The next day, at the station, Juliet walked over to Lassiter’s desk to maintain their daily routine of dulled greetings and one-sided conversation until she stopped in her tracks.</p><p>The usual focused, task-oriented head detective was transfixed by a small knick knack on his desk, playing with it in his hands with a small, yet evidently fond smile.</p><p>“Whatcha got there, Carlton?” Juliet asked, walking over and planting herself next to him, looking over his shoulder. </p><p>Lassiter jumped slightly in his seat, something that someone who didn’t know the man would simply brush off. But, to those who know Head Detective Carlton Lassiter, it was very hard to sneak up on him.</p><p>Well, unless you were—</p><p>“Oh, it’s nothing,” Lassiter said, brushing off the question and the surprise visitor all while quickly setting the little toy soldier down on the desk.</p><p>“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Juliet mused, a knowing smile on her lips when she saw the small blush forming on his face.</p><p>The stubborn detective spun around in his chair to face her, leaning back in his chair to portray his ever calm nonchalance. “Well— uh, it’s— uh, it’s a Christmas gift.”</p><p>“A gift? From who?”</p><p>“O’Hara, I don’t see how this is important—”</p><p>“Must be from someone special—”</p><p>“O’Hara…”</p><p>“Oh,” Juliet realized audibly, punching Lassiter gently on the shoulder and dropping her voice to a whisper, “It’s from you-know-who, right?”</p><p>The nickname rose nearly a month prior when his partner noticed him dressing up nicer and actually leaving the station to get some sleep. Even though she had no idea (and, to that day, still had no idea) who it was, that didn’t stop Juliet from persistently asking if was anyone that the usually brash and abrasive detective was remotely polite to. </p><p>Lassiter flushed, a bright red hue gracing his cheeks, before composing himself and grumbling, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>“Come on, Carlton,” she chided, holding back laughter from how childish he sounded. He sounded exactly like all those kids back in elementary school when their parents asked them if they had any crushes. “You can tell me.”</p><p>Lassiter stared at her for a long moment and eventually relented, grabbing the small trinket off his desk and handing it to her. </p><p>Upon closer inspection, it was a small figurine of a Civil War officer, sitting on a horse with his sword in the air. It even had the stupid goatee that made the figurine look like— </p><p>“Is that you?” Juliet asked, looking back at him incredulously.</p><p>“Yes, O’Hara, yes, it is,” the head detective said smugly.</p><p>Although the tiny Lassiter figurine was adorable, the way the bigger one held onto it was heartwarming. He looked like a kid getting his dream present for Christmas. His eyes lit up with excitement in a way Juliet had never seen. The small smile on his face radiated with fondness and—dare she say— love.</p><p>After another moment of admiration for the tiny figurine, Lassiter snapped out of his trance and frowned, looking up at her with his signature look of disappointment and disgust. “What the hell are you looking at?”</p><p>“Aw,” Juliet gushed, a large smile rushing on her face. “Carlton’s got a secret admirer!”</p><p>“I do not—” He stopped and looked around to see if anyone heard her claim, before sighing in defeat. “Fine, you got me. There is someone.”</p><p>“Who is it?” Juliet asked, before the man himself and his best friend burst through the front door of the police station, talking loudly.</p><p>“No, Shawn, you cannot mix pineapple and pickle juice together. The level of acidity would be out of this world.”</p><p>“Hear me out, Gus, the two would just cancel each other out.”</p><p>“That’s not how science works.”</p><p>Rounding the corner, Spencer and Gus came into view, their loud voices matching their equally loud presences.</p><p>His subconscious betraying him, a small smirk spread across his lips. </p><p>Ever since Shawn left his apartment that morning, Carlton couldn’t stop thinking about the night they shared. The way he no longer had to wonder about what wonders he hid under those layers of clothing. The way he could see the glimpses of bruises peeking out of his blue undershirt. </p><p>Something in him just wanted to march Shawn down to one of the interrogation rooms and have his way with him. And the strange thing was that he didn’t have to wonder if he could. Hell, Carlton knew that Shawn would be down with committing some public indecency with him in the police station.</p><p>Absentmindedly running a thumb across his lips, he could taste the pineapple and coconut lip balm on his lips from the night before—</p><p>Lassiter blinked, snapping himself out of his trance before giving himself any funny ideas and clearing his throat.</p><p>“Spencer! Can I speak to you for a moment?” Lassiter called out, rising from his desk and dragging the man by the shoulder to the empty conference room. </p><p>Closing all of the blinds, the head detective spun around to see a smirking Shawn Spencer. </p><p>“I saw you making eyes at me, Lassie,” Shawn commented, walking over to Carlton and gently grasping the lapels of his suit jacket. He looked between the deepening blush on his face and the dilated pupils. “You want some office sex, don’t you? Because I can certainly—”</p><p>“What? Spencer! No!” He denied almost too quickly, his voice raising suspiciously. Then he looked around and pulled a gift out of his jacket pocket. “Look, I know it’s after Christmas, but I got you a present.”</p><p>“Oh, Lassie, you shouldn’t have!” Shawn took the gift and ripped apart the wrapping paper to reveal a thin box. He opened it to see a silver and shiny as the psychic inspected them further in his hands. “You got me handcuffs.”</p><p>“That is correct.”</p><p>“Are these your handcuffs?”</p><p>“Police-certified.”</p><p>“Lassie—”</p><p>“Ah, ah, ah.” He then took the thin, yet sturdy pieces of metal out of his hands and spun them around his finger, sending a wink to the absolutely awestruck man and saying, “I’m taking these back for now. But if you’re good, I’ll… consider showing you what I can do with these later.”</p><p>“And if I’m bad?” Spencer heard himself ask, before he could do anything to stop himself.</p><p>“Well, I’m afraid I would have to punish you.”</p><p>The detective could see the eagerness light up Shawn like a lightbulb, the energy electrifying his eyes and smile. </p><p>“Is that okay with you?” Carlton asked, leaning in to hover above Shawn, a smile matching the other’s.</p><p>“That is more than okay with me. Hell, that is—”</p><p>With those final words of affirmation, Carlton pressed a gentle kiss onto Shawn’s lips, the shorter man following his lips when he pulled away.</p><p>“Good. Dinner. My place tonight at 7:30.”</p><p>Then Lassiter walked toward the door, sliding the handcuffs into his back pocket while doing so, knowing Spencer’s eyes were fixed on him. </p><p>Lassiter cleared his throat once more and held the door open for him. “You coming, Spencer?”</p><p>“Yes, Detective,” Spencer called out, loving the blush that spread over Lassiter’s cheeks, before muttering, “This is going to be so much fun.”</p><p>Sitting back down at his desk, the detective watched as Spencer almost skipped excitedly back over to Gus, before the two of them went into the Chief’s office to bother her into giving them a case.</p><p>Uncomfortable with the feelings of eyes staring at him, Lassiter turned to see Juliet staring at him knowingly, before glancing back down at her papers in front of her. </p><p>“What?” He asked gruffly, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>“Oh, nothing,” she chimed in, a small, smug smile growing on her face. </p><p>Lassiter only rolled his eyes and went back to work, not before his eyes meeting the figurine sitting on his desk and smiling.</p><p>Maybe this hadn’t been such a bad Christmas after all.</p>
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